


Goldfish

by yeaka



Category: 7'Scarlet (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25540846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sosuke proposes something.
Relationships: Tatehira Sosuke/Murakumo Yuzuki
Kudos: 3





	Goldfish

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own 7’Scarlet or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The door isn’t locked—Yuzuki’s first mistake—and the traditional wooden corridor is exactly the same as it was the last time Sosuke visited. He didn’t want to stay at the Fuurinkan Hotel then either, but Yuzuki gave him that cold look and flatly informed him that anything else would be _impossible_. Sosuke had said, _“He’s your father; just talk to him.”_ And Yuzuki had smoothly countered, _“I could say the same of you.”_ Then Sosuke’s chest clenched, and he nodded tightly, knowing he’d likely never see Yuzuki’s childhood room again. 

The office in his private annex has just as little and just as much of his personality all at once. It’s neat, tidy, comfortingly _orderly_ , with few personal knick-knacks to betray their owner. The quality is fine, _expensive_ even: unreachable, like the aloof man that sits behind the desk. He’s poised over a stack of papers, pen clutched in his right hand. But he quietly sits back and closes the manila folder, as though he could possibly have any secrets left from Sosuke. 

Sosuke strolls towards that desk and stops just before it. His hands slip subconsciously into the pockets of his vest. He bluntly asks, “Are you going to the festival?”

Yuzuki quirks one eyebrow. He doesn’t need to speak his answer; Sosuke already knows it. He waits for it to be said aloud anyway. 

“Of course not.”

“Reconsider.”

Yuzuki blinks up at him. Sosuke forces himself to explain, “I... want to go. You’re the logical choice for company.”

Yuzuki’s golden eyes are a little wide around the edges for half a moment, and then he’s expressionless again. Sosuke sees right through him. The blush on his high cheek bones is probably too subtle for the average observer to pick up, but Sosuke tends to notice every detail. Yuzuki asks, “Why on _Earth_ would you want to do that?”

“A study.” That isn’t entirely true. “The villagers have always been excited about the festival. I’ve never gone. Therefore I have no data on why it elicits the reaction that it does. Is it so strange to think I want to educate myself on both Okunezato’s culture and what less encumbered young adults enjoy?” He must know that Sosuke doesn’t _want_ to be so tightly wound that there’s no release. If anyone would understand, it would be Yuzuki. 

Yuzuki looks at him for a long moment before withdrawing. Shaking his head, Yuzuki mutters, “I’m not feeling particularly well. I don’t think I’ll be up to it.”

It’s Sosuke’s turn to lift his brow. “Is that an excuse?”

“You of all people should know the importance of heeding warning signs when it comes to one’s health.”

“And you of all people are unlikely to heed them.”

Yuzuki fixes him with a light glare. “I’m heeding them now.”

Sosuke stares back. He usually wins staring contests. He’s steadier, sterner than most people. But Yuzuki’s always been his match. Eventually, Sosuke gives in. He takes a step closer—close enough that he could reach out and swipe everything off Yuzuki’s immaculate desktop. 

“Perhaps I should examine you, then. See if you’re coming down with anything.”

“Nonsense,” Yuzuki snorts. “I’m hardly so far gone.” His frown deepens—the first sign of dismissal. “You may leave, now. Haven’t you got that useless barbeque to attend?”

Sosuke doesn’t ask if Yuzuki’s coming to that. 

He tells Yuzuki plainly: “Meet me at the bookshop tomorrow, dressed in your best yukata. If you aren’t, I’ll have to assume you’re deathly ill, and I’ll come straight here and confine you to your bed until I’ve nursed you back to health.”

Yuzuki answers him with silence. It’s been some time since Sosuke’s seen him in anything but a suit and tie—he even wears the same strict wardrobes in videocalls, on the rare occasion he’ll even agree to them. The rarer occasion Sosuke asks. He looks handsome enough in them, but he’s sure to be _beautiful_ in festive attire. 

Finally, he concedes, “Agreed.” Sosuke nods.

Then Sosuke moves, wandering casually around the desk so he can lean in and brush his lips across Yuzuki’s cheek. Yuzuki looks away, lashes half lowered, cheeks aflame. His annex is relatively private—it would be easy enough to retire to Yuzuki’s bedroom now and skip the entire affair with the Supernatural Club that Yuzuki so looks down upon. 

They’re not there yet. Perhaps, eventually, if Sosuke can humanize them both, little by little, they will be. Yuzuki murmurs, “You’ve just infected yourself.”

Sosuke snorts and makes his way out, throwing over his shoulder, “See you at the festival.”


End file.
